Hot
by Orange Seltzer
Summary: It was just her sanity. What did she have to lose? [JokerxHarley]


Disclaimer: I don't own any DC character, although I did add a little thing about Harley's college professor, added a storyline-sorta. I also stuck a line from the song "Fever" and have little bits of Avril Lavigne's unfairly good song "Hot" in there. I know. Icky.

Enjoy, I may be a little rusty. It's during Mad Love, near the end.

X.x.x.x.X

He was amazing. He was broken, and from the way he stared at her-subtle wasn't his game-he was loud, he was dangerous. He gave her such a fever, such a lovely way to burn, break, ruin. She'd "catch" herself thinking, musing, letting go and drifting towards the edge. Towards him. And it was sick. She doubled over, the water needed to be hotter, the ivory soap rubbing as hard as she could, oh, wanted the horrible burning feeling to go away. She wanted the fever to stop, she wanted these thoughts out of her head. Even if they were safe in there, she wasn't, she was afraid. Make a promise, save herself. She would only think about this sick obsession while she cleansed herself of it.

X.x.x.x.X

It had been going on for months now, stepping into the shower, and feeling the blaze heat, watch herself turn pink, pink pink. But it didn't make sense anymore. It was a routine that she followed, she didn't question. Although she was starting to think she should. Just a little bit. She didn't feel sick when the thoughts found themselves in her head, curious yes, but it didn't seem wrong. She felt obligated to hurt, and feel disgusting, but that was it. Feeling repulsed by her attraction to the Joker was no longer mandatory. The opposite really.

Eight thirty in the morning, Sunday. It was as late as she could sleep now, habit formed back in college she'd wake up with her Professor, even if she didn't have class. Lounging in bed just wasn't…she simply didn't want to. Time to shower, because that was the one time she was "allowed" to think about him. She was breaking rules, but she was forgiving, and she kept tasting the sin, and intoxicating herself. All she wanted to do when she was at home was shower, just do it again. Sure, she'd turn the water up as much as she could, and it'd hurt so bad, to the point where she'd just turn it off. And stop thinking about him; which was a trap for loneliness.

The phone rang.

X.x.x.x.X

"Hey, Joan, I'm actually gonna take a shower now."

"Alright; can I call you later?"

"Yeah."

X.x.x.x.X

She was slightly resistant to the cleaning, the water kept having to be turned up, and yet she didn't seem to feel it. She didn't feel sick anymore; she was supposed to, but it all seemed so redundant. But she scrubbed and she washed herself, rinsing half-heartedly. This didn't have a point anymore, and at a point, she just stood there, under the pulse, thinking, and starting to indulge. She didn't stop her mind from going to those bad places, the places he was. It was addictive, it took her in and it was strange, and scary, and perfect. Then the phone rang.

X.x.x.x.X

"Hi, Harley? It's Joan Leland."

"Oh, hey! Sorry, I was in the shower."

"…."

"Joan? You there?"

"Harley. It's six thirty."

She laughed a little, buying her time to look at the clock on the microwave. Blurry eyes, glasses still fogged on the bathroom cabinet. Her heart gave an unfair thump when she confirmed what Leland had said. "Oh, I guess I just got carried away; only really have two days to really loll about and get squeaky clean, you know? But I-"

"Harley-"

"Just need to manage my time a little better, and-God, six thirty, how did that hap-"

"Harley."

And so she shut up that time, because that voice told her talking wasn't an option.

"Harley, your voice is going a million miles an hour. You're rambling. It's getting…clowny, and-"

"Nah, c'mon Joanie."

That was meant to be a joke, in her "clowny" voice, but the way it rolled out was too natural, she spooked them both. It was too "clowny," it was spreading, and chilling, and nothing short of delicious. She was waiting for her friend, her colleague to say something motherly, authoritive, sane. _'C'mon Joanie, pull me back from the edge; you can do it.'_ It wasn't a request, it wasn't a plea, she just felt…obligated, like she was the star in the movie, and that was what she had to think to make them all believe. But she didn't believe. One hand around the phone, the other massaging her throat, because it felt weird. Not bad weird. New weird, right weird. Clearing her throat, and hearing the new spark, the new bubble, she decided the interlude was growing old, and things had to be said.

"So, I'll see ya tomorrow?"

"Harley, why don't you take the day off? Or the week off? Maybe-"

"No! No, he's there-The Joker's there, and we're making progress, I swear Joanie. He needs me-to have our session's and-"

"Harley."

That was the desperate but strong voice, the 'Be quiet, trust me' laced with the 'Fucking shut up because it's what you need right now.' "Harley, that's why I called you. He's gone. He's escaped. He…"

But of course she didn't hear the rest, didn't hear anything, just pulled and curled her hair with a free finger. It was down, and still wet, beads sliding down her still, the baby blue terry falling into a heap, her knees buckling and following suit. This was wrong. Joan had to be wrong. He wouldn't do something so rash, he wouldn't take such a risk; that'd be insane…Oh yes. She mentally chided herself for that slip up. Of course it made sense; to him at least! _'Dammit Harleen, get it by now. Get it get it get it get get…."_She should know why he did it, should've paid more attention to their session of Friday, instead of drawing little hearts in the margins of her notepad. He could be out there, hurt! Dead…Why? _'Get it get it get it." _Ah. He was a daredevil, he needed to be free. You can't cage some birds, her Joker's wild. So really, what really confused her was that he hadn't said goodbye.

'_He wouldn't have been able to…it would have been too much for both of us."_

She wouldn't delve into why he didn't take her with her.

Leland was still speaking. Harley didn't quite tune in, she just started talking.

"Joan, believe me, I should be in work tomorrow. Keep my mind off it-" She winced, because was so obviously unprofessional. "-And besides-" _'Keep up the façade Harls.' _"What if he comes after me?" She wasn't a good actress, a bit of swoon made itself clear. "Arkham would be safest."

It took a long time for Dr.Leland to respond, shallow breathing, and the sound of opening mouth, but stopped words. "That could be true…but listen Harley, I don't want to do anything much. You sound stressed out…really, unnaturally stressed out. You come to work tomorrow, and just, stay in your office and get a little work done. Okay?"

"Sounds good Joan."

"Alright Harley. Try to get some sleep. I'm worried about you."

The phones clicked off, and got up from the kitchen floor, forgetting the towel. Walking back to the shower, she stepped in, mechanically turning the knob. Hotter, hotter, hotter. She didn't know what to do, just looked at her naked body, the paleness, the pure. _'If things work out, this'll be the first time I date a guy paler than me.' _That set her off giggling, which couldn't do anything but turn into her new, bubbling laugh.

It went in and out, up and down, her voice breaking like a boy's. Her voice was struggling, slipping, sliding, it wanted both and neither, and Harley knew which one was going to win. Oh, oh, pretty please with a cherry bomb on top, let the clown voice take over. Drown in it, overwhelm her, take her, eat the sense away. Win. Strangle her, twist her, let her new voice, her right voice just grab, and fix the vocal chords. Twenty eight years old, now's the right time. Now's a good time.

She was under the water, but she didn't try to scrub the dirty feelings off. She liked them too much, they felt gorgeous. _'I love you! Break me, break me, I want to get you completely!' _She couldn't say it, she was still laughing so hard, but she would. Again and again. She wasn't standing, she was sitting at the bottom of the tub, curled up, water as hot as it could get, and she still wanted to love her Joker. She was laughing, and crying, gasping for air, shower water mixing and burning, turning her pink so, so quickly. The Clown Prince of Crime was her obsession, because she was the luckiest girl on earth. She was blessed, she would never let go, she needed him back. He was right, he was always right, and she'd let the droplet fall down her curves and bones, imagining his tongue, his mouth, he was doing it all. He was more then allowed. Scalding her, and it was wonderful, because she still wanted to be his, she wanted the bad guy, and the edge was getting old, taunting her. Her mind jumped. Snapped.

And she didn't want the water to ever get hot enough.


End file.
